Shifting Gears
by bittenbatwings
Summary: Truth is, you're the only reason I came back to London. I'm not letting you go alone.:: Layton/Legal!Luke, Slash, Spoilers for PL3. Rated M for non-explicit sex.
1. Stepping Into a Dream

**::Shifting Gears::**

**Warnings: Potential spoilers, Slash/Yaoi, non-explicit sex. **

**Luke returns to London to attend Gressenheller University and reunites with his beloved mentor. However, their joyous reunion is short lived as more pressing matters become apparent. **

**Hooray! This is my first fic. I'm more of a lurker/reader, but decided to put some work out there myself. I'm extremely anxious, but if any criticism is necessary, let me have it! That's the only way one can improve. Praise for my lack of genius is also appreciated! :3 **

**I do not own these darling characters, just toying around with them.**

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Luke leapt out of bed upon his alarm clock sounding; the familiar ear shattering ringing had him struggling to regain his bearings as he attempted to silence the obnoxious bells. It took a few tries, but he eventually plopped down victorious on the edge of his bed, both hands on his knees and still shaking some from being so rudely awoken.

He truly loathed that clock, and swore that would be the sound he heard when he died.

Usually it only took a moment to recover from the shock, but today was different. In a haze, his eyes drifted over to the calendar; and that's when it fully dawned upon him why it was so difficult to steady his heart rate this morning.

Today he would finally be beginning his first term at college.

He could see the school from his new flat, the sun slowly grazing over its roof. The university had a heavenly glow to it this morning, a spectacular silhouette against the bright light. It filled him up with butterflies as he dressed and attempted to eat breakfast before heading out. On the small dining table sat his schedule and a notebook. No word from any of his Professors yet on what supplies he'd need, so along with a few pencils and a pen, he made his way out toward the gleaming University.

_ First Literature, then Composition… Statistics…_ he said to himself with a groan. He wouldn't be looking forward to that one. The next day held a similar schedule of generic prerequisite courses, typical for someone in their first year.

There was, however, one course he was dying to take, but to Luke's dismay, preference was given to the older students. Alas, by the time they came around to the first years, there weren't any places available. The boy sighed. He joined a small stream of students as he approached the main building, even more glorious looking than it had been from his flat.

"Welcome, students," a stout man began. It was a more intimate classroom than Luke had anticipated; his vision of university was filled with expansive lecture halls and hundreds of other students who would be nothing more to him than strangers. Perhaps this was his notion of college because that's the only type of room he'd ever seen here. No, this classroom in fact only held about forty desks and there was simply a traditional blackboard at the front where the Professor had already scribbled his name and the title of the class. "I am Professor Whimbledy, and this is Introduction to Classic English Literature. Before I begin, please ensure you're in the right classroom. I understand most of you are beginning your first term here at Gressenheller University, and we wouldn't want to start your college career on the wrong foot, now would we?"

Someone rose and excused himself from the classroom.

"Very well then, let's begin by taking the register. Please state your presence when I call your name. Adams…. Baron…Bertson…." Luke yawned. This wasn't exciting at all. In fact, this was exactly like forms. Taking register, probably reading aloud and taking notes and such…

"Triton…"

"Present!" Luke called from the back of the classroom, hand stretched up toward the ceiling. The man adjusted his spectacles. "Ah, Mr. Triton, before I forget; please see me after class… Turnberry…."

_ Now what was that about? Surely I couldn't have done anything wrong yet!_ Luke lowered his hand and his head as well. Some of the others around him turned to look, while others politely kept their attention on the Professor.

Other than the incident at the beginning of the hour, the rest of the period was exactly as Luke had disdainfully thought it would be; dreadfully boring. Professor Whimbledy went over classroom "rules" and what books he would require and other supplies that would be useful over the term, then promptly went on to begin a brief lesson about famous authors. Luke tried to be polite and take notes on the lecture, but the few words he managed to jot down weren't the slightest bit coherent.

William Austen Shakespeare Keats Jane John Hemmingway Poe, 1811 Prejudice and Sensibility and modern society. Change.

_ Well, that isn't going to work. _Luke unceremoniously scribbled it out.

The lesson was starting to wind down, and not one mention of homework. He was thankful for that, seeing as his notes for the day were a bit dysfunctional. Out of curiosity and a bit of boredom, his eyes flicked to the clock above the Professor's head.

It was just past ten-thirty.

"And that will do for your first lesson. I expect to see you all bright and early Wednesday with your textbooks! Class is dismissed."

Then, the nerves came creeping back again. As the rest of his classmates quietly filed out of the room, Luke shuffled up to the Professor's desk.

"Excuse me, Professor Whimbledy?"

"Oh that's right, Mr. Triton…. I have a notice here from the Registrar's office; they would like to speak with you immediately." He handed him a small square of paper which said exactly that.

_ Mr. Triton,_

_ Please come to the Registrar's office immediately._

_ Regards,_

_ Angelica Bishop_

_ Secretary_

_ 3:00_

_ 9:00_

_ 9:00_

_ 12:00_

_ 2:00_

_ This wasn't bad news after all_, thought Luke. Although the note seemed a bit intimidating, he couldn't think up a situation that could be totally or entirely bad from visiting the Registrar. Perhaps there was just a problem with his schedule? A teacher taken ill? He gave Professor Whimbledy a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Professor. I'll head there straight away."

The office he was trying to locate was in the same building, but somewhere on the first floor. He was currently on the third and quickly realized that he had no idea how to get to the office from there. Perhaps from the front door, but that would include a lot of backtracking.

_ Puzzle 001: The Registrar's Office_

_ It's safe to assume that the times on the bottom of this note are directions. _It was the most basic of puzzles, and Ms. Bishop had obviously anticipated he would have trouble finding his way down. This was a cinch. He followed them exactly; right turn out of the classroom, two lefts that took him down elaborately expansive stairways, and by that time he could spot the office up a bit and to the left.

_ This one's as good as solved!_

(10/10 Picarats earned!)

Luke pushed the door open, and inside sat a willowy blonde typing at a desk. She looked up from her work and smiled.

"Oh, hello… Luke, was it? You requested the Archaeology lecture at eleven, correct? Well, it so happens that there is an opening. Would you like to take it?"

"Yes! Ah, I would." He cleared his throat, regaining some composure, a flush bursting across his cheeks. The woman just grinned and made a note of it.

"Alright then, I'll mark you down for Archaeology instead of Composition. And actually…." She glanced at the clock. It was ten 'til eleven. "Class is about to begin. Do you know how to get to the Schrader Building?"

"I'm very familiar with the Schrader Building, thank you."

"Then you best hurry, your next Professor isn't fond of tardiness."

Luke was nearly running through the halls, looking for a way to get to the courtyard. It was just across from there. Of course, he was more or less walking _very_ quickly, as gentlemen did not run indoors. Gentlemen didn't run in general, unless it was for a significant reason; and this was a reason indeed. Once he found his way outside, his pace increased considerably, zipping past throngs of slower, unsuspecting students lazing their way to class. It wasn't until he made it to the church-like doors of the Schrader Building that he slowed, trying to catch his breath.

The Schrader Building smelled like old books and must, and Luke's footsteps joined a chorus of others against the brick floors, echoing up into the vaulted ceilings. He knew exactly where to go from here, taking a narrow hallway to his right. Sunlight streamed in from the open windows. It caught the disturbed dust particles and turned them into floating bits of glitter, which framed his destination like a halo. He felt his nerves jump, and his pace quicken as he approached the half-open door.

From the sound of it, the lecture had already begun. A smooth, baritone voice resonated through the musty air, one that sent spikes of adrenaline into Luke's bloodstream. He felt his heart beating in his ears as he snaked into the lecture hall.

"…is to examine past societies. Over ninety-nine percent of the history of humanity has occurred within prehistoric cultures which did not make use of writing. Therefore, the only way to learn about these societies is using archaeology…"

He hadn't heard that voice in years. It was like stepping into a dream, this moment had been on his mind since the day he was begrudgingly got on that boat. The small lecture room was filled with rows and rows of chairs, nearly every one of them filled. Artificial light cast a slick glow on the wooden desks, just bright enough to read and take notes comfortably as the shades on the windows had been pulled shut. There were photographs of artifacts lining the walls, and on the desk at the very front sat a small collection of said artifacts, real and distorted and calcified from sitting in the earth for thousands of years.

But what made the setting truly dream-like was the man standing before it all. He felt a cold chill on his spine as he glanced over toward the podium, and found himself frozen in place, lungs suddenly filled to their capacity.

A wide-eyed and suddenly silent Professor Layton was staring right back at him.

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**And that's chapter one!**

**Please review, I do love feedback. 3**


	2. Blatantly Obvious

**Shifting Gears:::**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favourited so far! It really makes my day. 3**

**Again, I don't own Professor Layton. A sick part of me wishes I did.**

**So, without much further ado…**

**Chapter 2: Blatantly Obvious**

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For a moment, time was at a standstill.

Luke hadn't the foggiest idea how long he'd been standing in the doorway at this point, whether it was a few seconds, several minutes, or hours.

It didn't matter.

Everything moved in slow motion as he looked dead into the dark eyes of his mentor. For a moment, he felt himself shrink as he shed several years like the papery peel of an onion and became a boy again. Thirteen again.

"Ah, Luke," said the Professor, in his usual even tone. He spoke as if he had been expecting the boy all along, but the inquisitive look on his face said otherwise. He adjusted his top hat before gesturing toward the collection of students and desks in front of him. "So glad you could join us. Do have a seat."

Luke felt the eyes of one hundred classmates boring into his back as he took a seat in the second row. Some of the ones in the front even craned their necks back to glance at him a moment, which in turn caused him to tug at his collar, color blooming in his cheeks. It was perfectly normal for a Professor to know a student by name, was it not? He could hardly think that they stared at every tardy classmate this harshly.

Unconcerned, the Professor cleared his throat and carried on with his lecture.

Archaeology in general was only somewhat fascinating to Luke, surprising considering who his mentor was; he discovered that it involved so much more than discovering ancient ruins and things, which spoiled all the fun of it. However, he found it rather easy to get interested in the lecture as it was delivered in the Professor's naturally eloquent style. To any ordinary person it was probably like any ordinary lecture from any ordinary Professor, but Luke found himself hanging on his every word as always. Instead of the gibberish he made of his notes last period, he had long coherent sentences and ideas.

"It appears that will be all for the day," said the Professor casually, glancing at the clock. "You are dismissed. Until next time."

Luke inwardly groaned as Layton gave his dismissal. Even though nearly two hours had passed, he silently cursed the idea of getting up and going somewhere else. The students around him all stretched and yawned, quickly taking their belongings and filing for the door. Luke was just managing to gather up his things as the last of them shuffled out of the room.

"Luke, my boy," Layton began, "Do you have a moment?"

He didn't even have to think twice. "Of course, Professor."

The Professor moved to close the door after the last student's departure as Luke stepped up to the front of the hall. The Professor hardly had a chance to turn around again before the boy flung his arms around him in tight hug.

"Luke…" Layton tensed, eyes quickly darting around the room. He eased some once he confirmed that the classroom was just as empty as it had been seconds before, but not entirely. The Professor nervously adjusted the brim of his hat again, which got him thinking.

This was terribly similar to a moment they had shared years ago.

He clearly remembered the flawless blue sky, the salty taste of the air that day. The Professor stood near a massive passenger ship next to his young apprentice, who unwillingly sat on his luggage, waiting.

"_I guess this is good-bye," _said Luke, eyes fixed upon the pavement.

_ "Oh, no, my boy. This is 'so long,' not 'good-bye.'" _It had become evident to the Professor at that very moment that this was going to be an emotional parting. Tears were now visibly streaming down the boy's cheeks_. "Now Luke, you know a gentleman never makes a scene in public."_

_ "I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm not a gentleman yet!"_

Luke was sobbing, although muffled as the boy had latched onto the Professor and began wailing into his chest. Layton casually toyed with the brim of his hat as he comforted the boy, almost as if he had seen it all coming.

_ "There, there…."_

His young apprentice finally boarded the ship, and tearfully waved farewell. The Professor remained motionless in that very spot until the ship was merely a speck in the sun.

The last time that Layton had seen the boy was on that day. Not to say that they didn't have contact, of course, as they had exchanged dozens of letters in the meantime. However, the last time Luke had been in his presence, in the flesh, was in excess of five years ago. It was almost shocking how much he had grown since then. Instead of being chest-height, the boy was now comfortably resting his chin on the Professor's shoulder. His features, his voice, even his hat had aged quite considerably and yet were all the same in so many ways. Luke was no longer a child. No, he had evolved into a young man.

Once he deemed the moment gone, the Professor broke contact, brushing past the boy ever so slightly to get to his desk.

"I'm sorry, Professor," said Luke quickly, catching his breath. He felt his whole body begin to sting with warmth. "I suppose I'm just happy to see you again. Were you surprised?"

The Professor smiled. "Quite alright, my boy. You've been due for a visit for some time now. Although I must say, I'm not at all surprised to see you here."

Luke's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "You aren't?"

The Professor simply shook his head and shrugged. It was a classic move of his. "Of course not. You write regularly, and as I recall the last letter I received from you some several months ago stated you were going into Veterinary Medicine."

"Go on…"

"St. Laszlo College has a far superior Veterinary program and is much closer to where your family had relocated. Therefore, when I ceased to receive letters from you I had a hunch that you would be travelling back to London for school. Gressenheller, specifically. Obviously if you had told me you would be attending college here, I would have tried to dissuade you for the sake of your education."

"It was simply your intuition though, Professor. Letters or lack thereof couldn't have revealed anything certain; perhaps I was attending St. Laszlo's?"

Layton chuckled, "I would assume, or at least I would hope, that you would have written an ecstatic letter about being accepted there, or any other college for that matter. However, your attendance at this establishment became truly apparent to me when your name showed up on the waiting list for my Archaeology lecture. It's no coincidence that you happened to receive the first available seat, dear boy."

Luke suppressed a grin, anchoring his chin with his thumb and forefinger. He was impressed, as usual, however still skeptical on one last detail. "Well, if you were expecting me, why did you look so puzzled when I walked in?"

"That's very simple. You have changed quite a bit these last five years. It's almost as if I'm looking at a completely different person, compared to the boy I remember. It took a moment to fully sink in."

"Of course," Luke gave a sigh of defeat. "I should have known better than to try and surprise you. Nothing gets past the Great Professor Layton."

"It isn't out of the realm of possibility, my boy. You merely need to work on being so blatantly obvious about it."

For one reason or another, Luke beamed. A few years ago, he would feel his eyebrows tug and narrow, and his fists would clench ever so slightly at his sides. He never did appreciate being bested, even by his own mentor. Yet, he wasn't angry or embarrassed or upset. He felt his insides, his heart, his lungs, begin to swell. Perhaps it was just the nostalgia of it all. The Professor was exactly as he remembered him, not a day older and surely armed with an even sharper wit than before. The man didn't miss anything. It was almost unreal. Before he could come up with a viable retort, Layton continued, his tone gentler.

"I'm not keeping you, am I?"

"Not at all, Professor. My next class isn't until two o'clock."

" Ah." Layton paused, and began assembling some important looking documents on his desk. "However, I am afraid that I have an engagement I must tend to. The reason I asked you here I was to see if you'd care to stop by for tea later."

Luke blinked. He knew the answer, but it struggled to find his tongue. "Of course, Professor."

Layton cleared his throat. "I apologise for having to leave in such a rush. I do hope you understand, Luke."

"Absolutely. We can catch up later."

"Very well then. Just come by the Manor when you're through with classes. I'm sure Flora will be delighted to see you."

The Professor gave the boy a nod before ushering him out of the lecture hall, clamping the door tight behind him.

"Goodbye, Professor."

As he watched Layton briskly walk out of sight, Luke realized that warmth he felt earlier was still there. In fact, it had kindled into a blazing fire.

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**And that's chapter two. Hoorah! Hopefully I can get the third chapter up sometime this weekend. Don't quote me, though! I do promise things will get a tad more interesting in the next round. **

**Please bear with me as I attempt to find a solid personification for Luke. I'm working at it. :3 Why can't he be so easy to write , like Layton?**

**Reviews are very much loved. :3**


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